


Crush

by moonjellies



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, pre-release
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 05:31:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19823542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonjellies/pseuds/moonjellies
Summary: While Sylvain’s reputation of a skirt chaser was known by…well, everyone, Ashe couldn’t help but wonder how any of the girls Sylvain chased after could possibly be annoyed by him.





	Crush

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first work i'm posting to ao3, and it's pre-release to the game. i tried to work with what we have so far of their personalities, but a lot of it is headcanons and my personal takes! i might come back around to this and edit it to be more accurate once the game is out, but i really just wanted to write for these two because i think they could be really cute. 
> 
> BUT i couldn't find ashe's age anywhere, so i wrote this intentionally pretty vague with it being moreso ashe having a big dumb crush on sylvain. i hope it comes across well!!

There was a celebration at the Garreg Mach Monastery.   
  
It was a congratulations of sorts that some of the students of the Officer’s Academy had put together at the last minute, everyone gathered together late at night after the festival hours earlier. A roaring bonfire set in the middle being tended to by various students, some Ashe had yet to meet, though he recognized Felix nearby tossing spare wood pieces into the flames.   
  
It was a wonderful night. A slight breeze made the summer air chilly, but the heat off the bonfire warmed everyone from tip to toe, so long as they were close. The festival had worn Ashe out, though, and the added laid-back atmosphere made him relaxed, almost sleepy. He found his head dipping to the side more than a few times in the short moments he had been out there.   
  
That didn’t stop his classmates from being full of energy as always, though.   
  
Everyone circled the bonfire, resting on quilts of different colors, talking and dancing the night away. Music played in the distance, lingering from the end of the festival, and someone had started a choir, students singing along in varying tones of accuracy and volume. Ashe figured most of them must have snuck something to drink, with how freely they were acting in front of everyone.   
  
There was something quite nice about seeing the students from the three houses mingle together happily, even if they were making fools of themselves.   
  
Despite the open atmosphere, Ashe was tucked away on his own blanket in the far corner, away from the others. While he had spent some time with Annette at the festival, and even walked here with her, he declined to go along with her to dance and sing with the others. _Maybe next time_ , he said, but she had just given him a knowing look and moved along.   
  
With Mercedes being the only other to reach out to him, to invite him to her blanket to listen to ghost stories, he was happy to pass and seclude himself.  
  
He didn’t really mind the solitude either, not really. He would be stuck with his nose in a book half the time he was around his peers normally – or even excuse himself to go back to his room to study. That wasn’t out of disrespect for them ( _gods knew he would never intentionally disrespect a noble_ ) and he quite liked socializing with his classmates and hearing what others had to say, but he had to be focused. He had a lot at stake, here.   
  
Though he knew he wasn’t the only one, he couldn’t help but feel a bit distant, sometimes.   
  
He twisted his fingers in the quilt below him, mindlessly picking at a frayed piece of yarn that had come undone from the rest of the fabric. The stress culminating over the months resurfaced, making his chest feel heavy with doubt and anxiety.   
  
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, trying to shake the thoughts plaguing him. He spared a glance around the bonfire, yearning for someone to talk to, when his eyes landed on two of his classmates. While one had their back turned to him, Ashe could recognize Sylvain anywhere – if the hint of Ingrid’s exasperated face was not enough of a tell. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her posture was anything but relaxed, but Ashe barely noticed her as his eyes lingered on her annoyer. Something tightened in his chest.   
  
While Sylvain’s reputation of a skirt chaser was known by…well, _everyone,_ Ashe couldn’t help but wonder how any of the girls Sylvain chased after could possibly be annoyed by him.   
  
Though he was blunt with his flirting, Sylvain never pushed anyone’s boundaries, not really. He gave girls endless praise, complimenting them, saying what they wanted to hear. Not to mention his general attitude, wanting to help and reach out to others, wanting to be _seen_. How could anyone stay composed, let alone be irritated at that?   
  
Perhaps he just yearned for that attention himself. Wanting Sylvain to _look_ at him, give him praise, make him feel _special_ , too.   
  
it wasn’t as if Ashe was invisible to Sylvain. If he were to be honest, he’d say they were maybe even friends. Not within Sylvain’s inner circle, no, but he stopped to give Ashe an ever so charming smile and wave when he spotted Ashe in the halls. It made his stomach flip every time. It was a wonder how the mere act of Sylvain acknowledging his presence hadn’t made him drop his books like a fool.   
  
Even so, he felt the distance. He didn’t know how to close the gap between himself and Sylvain. It frustrated him – he could solve any puzzle Professor threw at him, but figuring out what made Sylvain tick was a complete mystery.   
  
Perhaps it was for the better, though. Watching Sylvain now, surely in an attempt to gain Ingrid’s affections, made his heart feel heavy. The further he was, the less he would hurt when someone, inevitably, returned Sylvain’s feelings.   
  
Despite the hood resting on his head, Ashe still felt the nights chill, and he shivered. Wrapping his arms around himself, he couldn’t decide if it was for warmth or comfort.   
  
As if sensing his internal anguish, or perhaps the gods were just particularly cruel today, Ingrid locked her eyes with Ashe. Though he could not hear her, she said something to make Sylvain look over his shoulder at him. Face burning, embarrassed from being caught staring, Ashe quickly tilted his head down and resumed fiddling with the quilt’s yarn. Perhaps if he became small enough, he could disappear into the quilt entirely.   
  
His heart leapt into his throat when he spared a glance and recognized the silhouette of Sylvain, outlined by the flames of the bonfire, making his way towards Ashe. While he was prepared for a scolding, the last thing he expected was for Sylvain to plop down next to him.   
  
“ _Hey_ , Ashe! Having fun?”   
  
Though his vision was obstructed by the hood hanging in his eyes, Ashe was most certainly staring at Sylvain’s chest, sitting on the quilt next to him. Sharing his space. He was sure this was the closest Sylvain had ever been to him before.   
  
He almost forgot to answer, too caught up in this realization, before Sylvain gave him an encouraging look, though he quirked his brow at Ashe’s silence.   
  
“Oh, y-yeah, it has been fun. Everyone seems to be having a good time.” Ashe was a bit lost for words. Sylvain reaching out to him wasn’t uncommon, but it was rare for him to seek Ashe out outside of learning hours. He felt a bit exposed, and wondered if Sylvain felt the same way.   
  
“Good, good! Hey, did no one hand out an extra blanket to you?”   
  
Ashe blinked at him. “They were doing that? I assumed everyone brought their own.”   
  
Sylvain gave a soft chuckle that must rearrange Ashe’s insides, with how his stomach feels, and says, “I guess they must have missed you, then. You’re _preeetty_ far back here, you know? Didn’t notice you until Ingrid said you were shivering.”   
  
It took a moment to set in that Ingrid must have been concerned. Though he was sure she was glad to get Sylvain away from her for the time being, it made him feel happy, at least for a moment. He would have to thank her later. He smiled sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders.   
  
“Everyone is a bit rowdy…” He admitted, glancing towards the others, who were still dancing and singing. He missed the look of understanding in Sylvain’s eyes.   
  
“Hey, I get it. I’m surprised you’re out here too, honestly, I figured you would have rather head in early.” _(I would rather be with you,_ Ashe doesn’t say). “But as long as you’re out here, do you mind sharing? Ingrid stranded me with one, haha. Oh, but don’t let her know I said that.”   
  
Ashe doesn’t manage to put two and two together until a blanket is being draped around his shoulders, and Sylvain is scooting closer, shoulders nearly touching as Sylvain wraps the other side of the blanket around his own. Ashe almost forgets how to breathe.   
  
“Oh. Sharing is- fine.” He manages to say, and Sylvain shoots him another one of his grins. Ashe tries to give him one in return, a shaky smile of his own. He can feel Sylvain’s warmth radiating despite not touching. It makes his legs feel like pudding.   
  
He almost misses what Sylvain says next, but luckily his eardrums still work despite his heart feeling as if its been struck by a lightning spell.   
  
Sylvain asks what Ashe did at the festival, and Ashe is quiet but happy to tell him about spending time with Annette, the food that he got to eat, and the _books_ – which when he inquires about, Ashe lights up and rambles about the texts, everything so fascinating and how lucky he felt that he managed to get them on such a budget.   
  
He runs out of steam once he looks at Sylvain, really looks at him, seeing him so up close for the first time. Sylvain was looking at him, face resting in his palm and listening intently. His eyes sparkle, and the light of the fire illuminates him in the most magical way. Ashe is struck a bit speechless but can’t look away. His heart pounds and he feels like he’s on fire. He is absolutely, completely enamored.   
  
He manages to tear his eyes away and mumble, asking what Sylvain had done that day. Sylvain blinks, as if he had been a bit distracted himself, and laughs a little before going on a spiel about how much fun he had at the festival. He was so animated, laughing at his own jokes, and Ashe couldn’t help but laugh along. How _couldn’t_ he?   
  
Time seemed not to matter when he was around Sylvain, watching him speak and being hooked on each and every word. ( _Hours could have passed, and each would have been just as precious_.)  
  
Sylvain had gotten to telling Ashe about a girl he had met when his head started to droop once again, lulled into being relaxed by Sylvain’s voice and warmth. When his head dipped and hit Sylvain’s shoulder, he straightens up quickly, embarrassed, but Sylvain just gave him the gentlest smile.   
  
“Aw, am I that boring?” Before Ashe can stammer out that _of_ course _he isn’t_ , Sylvain’s grin grows and he ruffles Ashe’s hair, dislodging his hood. “I’m just teasing. But, seriously, are you that tired?”   
  
Ashe would be disgruntled if it was anyone but Sylvain, so instead he feels like he has been blessed by the goddess herself. He adjusted his hood back into place, and lets out a quiet hum. “A little…the festival really wore me out.”   
  
“More than just that, huh?” At Ashe’s confused expression, Sylvain gestures under his own eyes. “You have bags under your eyes.”   
  
Sylvain being seemingly concerned for Ashe’s health was…a _lot_ for him to process. If he let himself have hope, just in that moment, then no one really needed to know. It was okay if he opened up, if it was Sylvain. Because how could he deny Sylvain?   
  
“I’ve been a little…stressed. Anxious, I guess.” He shrugged, gesturing with his hands when he couldn’t settle on the right word, and Sylvain made a displeased sound from the back of his throat. For a moment, Ashe was worried he had upset him.   
  
“You worry too much. I see you with a stack of books _all_ the time. Why don’t you just relax for right now? You can lay against me, okay? I’ll wake you up when everyone’s heading back inside.”   
  
“Lay against you?” Surely Ashe must be dreaming, if Sylvain was seriously offering that. But Sylvain took his confusion more literally than Ashe had intended.   
  
“Yeah, you know…” Sylvain seemed to struggle with words himself for a moment, before looking determined. “Well, like this.”   
  
In a flash, Sylvain was adjusting his position. His body was touching Ashe’s, now, his arm resting behind Ashe as he tucked him closer, gently pushing his head down to rest on his shoulder. He was close enough to hear Sylvain’s heartbeat, and he prayed that Sylvain could not hear his, for Ashe could feel his own beating wildly against his chest.   
  
“Comfy?” Sylvain’s voice is so close, so easy going. He must not even realize what he does to Ashe, or would he even have offered this in the first place? Ashe can barely function to nod, his voice useless beyond clearing it, just to make sure he was still here – still _real_.   
  
( _It felt too much like a dream to be real, but it_ was.)  
  
Sylvain’s smile was so bright it rivaled the roar of the campfire, and much like the fire, Ashe’s heart ignited like a stray piece of wood being thrown into him.   
  
He thanked the gods that his hood was obstructing his face from Sylvain’s view in their new position, because surely he resembled a tomato from Professor’s garden. He fidgeted anxiously, both the most comfortable and most anxious he had ever been in his life.   
  
Desperate for Sylvain to fill the silence, to say _anything_ , he croaked, “What about the fruit stall maiden?’   
  
Sylvain let out a groan, but laughed, rumbling against Ashe’s side. Ashe decided then he wouldn’t rather be anywhere else in the world. “ _Right,_ right. So, like I was saying…”   
  
Ashe couldn’t stay awake long enough for Sylvain to finish his story, dozing off as he felt his hand being covered by Sylvain’s own.


End file.
